The Tracker
by Firesblood
Summary: She was angry, and she took her aggression and used it. Her rap sheet and her work history showed it plainly, as did the pictures of those she had been employed to bring in. Broken noses, arms, ribs, one case of bullet wounds...but she was the best.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer--I do not own anything pertaining Alien, Predator, or anything else but the plot. I am not making any money off of this. _**

**_My first AVP fanfiction. Hope you enjoy it._**

* * *

"_Are we there yet?" Sam asked, his normally soft-spoken voice yelling over the music. _

_Nix looked back at her son, frowning. "You asked that five minutes ago, and we're still no closer than we were before. It will be a few hours. Please don't ask again." She turned back to face forward in the passenger seat, cocking an eyebrow at her husband Cal as she did. He stuck his tongue out at her, his baby blues merry. _

_The vacation was long in coming, something that both of them had been needing for a few years. Calvin was one of the managers of a call center. With his good looks and charming personality, he could sell garbage to a garbage dump. Nix often wondered how in the hell she had managed to find a man such as him. She was what many considered to be an exotic beauty, with light auburn hair that fell stark-straight just past her shoulders and warm, dark amber eyes. She had dark freckles all over her tanned body, more so on her face than anywhere else, high cheekbones, full lips, and a pointed chin. She had once been a slender woman, but since Sam's birth, her body had softened and curved. Even after seven years, she hadn't been able to lose all the weight. _

_Then again, she had only just begun working again. Nix was a tracker and bounty hunter, though she despised the term bounty hunter. She preferred the lesser known term for a female bounty hunter that her father had used; a 'Domino'. Give her a month or two, and she would be harder than adamantium, and just as strong. Of course, Cal had no idea of her real profession. _

_Exotic beauty or not, Nix never saw herself that way, and never would. Cal was perfect. He put up with her temper, which was admittedly horrible, he did so many thoughtful, romantic things for no reason at all, and he was a wonderful husband and father. _

_She heard Sam sigh audibly in the back seat. She smiled softly to herself. Sam. Her little ray of impatient sunshine. He had inherited his fathers looks, but her skin. He, like her, was naturally deeply tanned with a smattering of freckles all over his face. All mothers thought their children were geniuses, and she was no different. Except, his teacher backed her belief thoroughly. Sam had a gift for strategy. At six years old, he was beating his father at chess and applying a sense of logic to everything that he came in contact with. Her little Vulcan. But his intellect did not stop him from being a child, something that Nix was grateful for. When he got older, Nix would train him as her father had trained her, and she could tell he would be even better than her. She planned to tell Cal what she was by then, she was just unsure how to do it. _

"_I'm hungry." Sam stated plaintively. Nix reached down to the plastic bag between the front seats and pulled out a bag of chips and a half-sandwich they brought from the store for just such an occasion. She passed the food back to him and Sam frowned at it before taking it. _

"_Can we get a burger instead, please?" he asked, looking distastefully at the ham sandwich. Nix shook her head. _

"_That sandwich is good enough until we get there, Samuel."_

_Cal was smirking. "Oh, come on, mom, can't we get a burger in the next town?" he coaxed. Nix glared at him._

"_You're not helping."_

"_Mom, even dad wants a burger! Please?" Sam continued, courage buoyed after hearing his father's words. _

"_Please mommy?" Cal added, sticking his bottom lip out. Nix bit her own bottom lip, trying to keep from smiling. _

"_It's no fair when you tag-team against me." She said, mock hurt in her tone. She folded her arms over her chest, playing the part of the emotionally wounded. _

"_So's that a yes?" Cal asked, pleased. Nix looked out her window and didn't answer for a moment. _

"_Kay then." She said nonchalantly. Sam whooped in the back seat. Nix smiled. _

'I love them. I don't know what I'd do without them. My whole life…' _she thought to herself, finger trailing lightly over the diamond solitaire that had been Cal's Grandmother's wedding ring. _

_Thirty miles later they pulled out of a drive thru, Nix digging through the paper bag to deal out what they each ordered. She handed Sam his kiddie meal and turned to face forward again, getting ready to hand Cal his. _

_That was when the world came to a screeching, jarring halt, and went dark with the sound of a resonant, pained scream._

_

* * *

_**Four Years Later….**

* * *

Mathew Fairs eyed the file in his hands before glancing up at the woman that was sitting still as a statue in the chair across from him.

Nixlyne Eleanor Grant. Widow as of four years ago. The file included the details of the fatal wreck that had not only killed the racing teenagers in the other car, but her husband, son, and nearly her. According to the records, she had been in the hospital for six months recovering, three of those months were spent in a coma on life support. She had suffered numerous head injuries, her right arm had been broken in three places, and that was just the beginning of the long list.

The woman sitting across from him had been silent most of the interview. Her jaw had been set in a grim expression. When she had first come in, Mathew couldn't help but stare. Her red hair had been shaved in a buzz cut so close that he could see the dark freckles on her scalp. A long, diagonal scar ran over her left eye, the eye that she was lucky to still have, he had read. The damage done to it was minimal and somewhat easily fixed. She did nothing to enhance her looks, in fact, it seemed to him that the shaved head was a way to deliberately make herself unattractive to the male eye. Unfortunately, it did nothing but put her fiercely beautiful face in full view. Fairs couldn't help but think it a shameful waste.

When she had noticed him staring, she had glared.

Mathew cleared his throat and set the file down.

"Ms. Grant—"

"Nix." She corrected, as she had every time he had called her by her surname. Mathew ignored the forceful note she had employed.

"Nix, do you understand what kind of job this is?" he asked. The corner of her mouth quirked upward, but there was no amusement.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here, sir." She said softly. Mathew sighed and sat back in his chair.

"You realize then, that this job is extremely risky. It might involve fighting, gun training and use, endurance…among other things. The xenamorphs creatures are highly dangerous. You understand that your life will be in danger? That you could possibly die?" he felt for some reason that he needed to discourage her. He had read through her file, observed her, and come to the conclusion that being alone had not suited her well. He could see major differences between the picture of the smiling woman in the file, and the hard, grave woman that sat in front of him. The picture was softer, feminine. She had rounded curves and the muscles under her skin weren't defined. In the course of four years, her body had hardened until definition was quite visible, but not disgustingly so. The soft quality she had had was gone as if it had never been there.

She was angry. She took her aggression and used it. Her rap sheet and her work history showed it plainly, as did the pictures of those she had been employed to bring in. Broken noses, arms, ribs, black eyes, one case of bullet wounds...but she was the best. He didn't know whether she fought, lifted weights, or employed a punching bag aside from her work, but he could see said anger in every line. Despite everything, her resume and talents were impressive, just what they were looking for at Weyland-Yutani.

"Mr. Fairs, I've been dead for four years. My body just hasn't realized it yet, and it's death is far from frightening to me." She said pointedly. Her hand went to stroke something on a silver chain. Two small, cylindrical, silver phials. He noticed the top of them were engraved, though he couldn't read what they said.

"I want to do this." She said softly, her amber eyes glazed in thought. Mathew nodded once.

"Very well, Ms—Nix. Be on the grounds at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow morning. Uniforms will be provided for you, as well as anything else you may need."

Nix stood and left the room without any indication she had heard him. With a reserved sigh, Mathew Fairs closed the file and set it on top of the stack of seven others he had chosen.

* * *

The day was overcast, but it did not take away from the sweltering humidity of the summer mid-morning. The black chopper lifted and took off into the sky, leaving Nix and seven others standing in the recently-made clearing of the forest.

Four of the men were Marines, from the look of them. Crew cuts, muscled, strong-jawed, and cool. Lewitts, McMullan, Chandler, and Ramone. No first names for them. It seemed the moment they joined up with the armed forces, their surnames took the place of the names their parents gave them. A thin man with a balding head and a few pimples scattered over his long face stood a little more off to the side away from the group. He wore a Hawaiian shirt that made her want to vomit from the color overload. He was supposedly a doctor. Doctor Dan. He was the opposite of the Marines. Instead of no first name he had no last name. The other two were something entirely different; Death-dealers posing as civilians. Nix fit mostly in the same category. Unlike them, however, she was not paid to take lives, she was paid to track them down and pass information or sometimes bring them in. A bounty hunter and tracker of sorts. However, most of the people she was sent to track were killed by Death-dealers like them. It was something that had bothered Nix at first, but eventually, she put it from her mind. Her father had been a tracker. He taught her the trade from a young age, including how to fight. Nix had kept that a secret when she married Calvin. It was the only secret she kept from him.

Since the death of her family, she had trained and worked harder than ever before, trying to fill the gaping hole inside her that threatened to swallow her. Because of this, she was known as the best. Weyland-Yutani needed a Tracker and sent the info along the wire. Nix had been there the next day with her resume.

The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Well, shall we? We need to set up camp here before we begin."

Nix scowled at him.

"You want to make camp in the middle of a clearing where any and all things can see us? That leaves us too open. We passed a rock face approximately a mile away, and I saw a cave. I suggest we go there and check it out. If it's closed off in the back, we make camp there. It will be easy to defend ourselves if we only have to focus on one side. If we're surrounded by something, we're dead." She stated emphatically. The doctor smiled at her as if she was an ignorant child and went to speak, but was interrupted by Lewitts.

"She's right, Doc. There's only eight of us, and no matter how good we are, better have fallen in even greater numbers than ours, before this. A cave will be easier to defend if we don't have to watch our backs constantly." The Marine agree, nodding towards Nix.

"The only problem I see with that," one of the Death-dealers interrupted, Fagan Thomas, she remembered, "Is that we'll be cornered. We won't be able to get away if we're attacked and suffering casualties. I suppose that's what you call a Catch 22." He finished thoughtfully.

Lewitts nodded. "That's true, but it's still a little safer. Also, we need to make sure that no matter where we go, we are together. We cannot afford to separate. Safety in numbers. Watch each other's backs, keep your eyes and ears pealed. If one of us dies, know that that's just one death closer to yours." Lewitts declared, resting his automatic against his shoulder.

The Doctor gave up with a nod of his head and before long, they were headed on their way, Nix at the front. The forest was thick. Nix grasped the new machete she had been issued. She wore belt with three gun holsters, two at her hips, and one at her back safely tucked away. Among guns were assorted blades of different shapes, as well as several other straps that held sheathed blades on her arms and legs. She had never much liked guns, but she couldn't deny that they were useful.

She had been skeptical at first when she saw pictures of what they would be looking for and defending themselves against. Long, ebony creatures of great stealth, intelligence and violence, referred to as Xenemorphs, bugs, or serpents. Their blood was acidic, their tails and claws sharp. What scared her more than the Xenemorphs themselves were the face-huggers that transferred the spawn of the aliens into a host body. There had been a picture of those as well, along with the information of them.

Even worse than the Xenemorphs and face-huggers were their Hunters. The Predator, is what they were referred too. They had been coming to earth for a very long time, hunting the Xenemorph and humans alike. In this heat, the predators were expected for a hunt, and their little group was stuck in the middle of it, with the hope that somehow they would be able to capture one of each without getting killed. Nix was skeptical to say the least about that. It was probably why she had been interested in the first place. Their informant told them that as far as they knew, they were not above killing an armed woman that could fight and defend themselves, but they would not touch a weaker or pregnant female. They also left those that were sick alone, unless they were incited. Nor did they kill children.

Nix thought that interesting. Whatever these Predators were, they seemed to be honorable, if not a little bit. That still did not mean she was excited to meet one face to face.

'If you find some of their technology, bring it back. If you can bring one of them in, do so. If you can bring both species in, you get a raise that will take care of you, your children, and their children for the rest of their lives.' The informant had told them, his neat hair and sharp suit barely ruffled by the wind of the chopper. Nix had just barely heard him.

She fingered the phials around her neck absentmindedly as she walked, listening to the sounds their feet made on the ground. _So much for stealth. Anything could hear our little band. _

Something, in fact, already had.

* * *

They watched from the tree tops, unmoving as the group moved beneath them. The Oomans didn't speak, in fact, they seemed to be in their own little worlds. There were eight in all, all but one armed. There was one female in the entire group, tall and muscled. Blade thought it strange that her hair was shorn to her scalp. From his knowledge, only Ooman males did that. And he'd never seen a human with so many dark spots on their skin. If she gained a few more, her skin would look something close to his, despite the fact that her spots were much smaller.

The two behind her were military, as were the two in the very end. They looked almost the same except for the color of their hair. The other two, one a well-muscled man with red hair, and the other with black hair and pale skin, were armed to the teeth. He could see several explosives and weapons hidden from human sight on their person. The last man was thin and weak-looking, without weapons. Hulij-bpe Ooman. He did not take much time scrutinizing that one.

Blade looked at the two unblooded. They were eager to begin the hunt. The second one, whom he had dubbed Ch'hkt-a, was practically shaking the tree in his excitement.

Blade rumbled quietly at the youth, who immediately went still. Slowly, in case one of the Oomans looked back, he pointed at the eyes in his mask, and then gestured to the Pyode Amedha. Watch them. The unblooded signed they understanding, and together, they moved to the ground below and silently followed them, cloaked.

* * *

_So it begins…_

**_Translations:_**

_Ooman-Slang for human_

_Hulij-bpe- Crazy_

_Ch'hkt-a- Hyper active_

_Pyode Amedha- soft meat _

_**Chapter Playlist:**_

_Trust—Megadeth_

_Razorblade—Blue October_

_A Quiet Mind—Blue October_


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Language, mention of Suicide. If you are offended by such things, do not read. I do not own or have anything to do with Aliens, Predators, or anything else. I am just borrowing them for fun. I am not making any money off of this. **

The base camp had been set. The cave was as they had hoped; closed in the end, and it provided plenty of room for easy movement should they be attacked.

Fagan was speaking to the other death-dealer, who hadn't so much as uttered a word, but answered with varying grunts. The Marines were cleaning and loading their weapons, something they had already done on the helicopter to their destination. Nix frowned at this and moved her gaze to the doctor. He was humming softly under his breath as he set up a small table to place assorted items upon.

Sighing, Nix leaned her head back against the stone wall, allowing her eyes to flutter closed. They would be leaving the cave soon to begin tracking the alien creatures. She had warned the others that they might have already arrived after crossing a few nearly-hidden tracks that she could not identify.

Doctor Dan was sickeningly enthusiastic, and not exactly quiet about it. It wasn't until she had threatened to cut his tongue out that he quieted. She couldn't tell if he believed her or not, but when Fagan backed her up with the promise that if her threat wasn't carried out by her, he would do it himself…well, you would be stupid not to believe an assassin's promise. Even the most good-natured or humored comments should be construed as serious when an assassin speaks.

She heard a rattling sound heading for her face and her hand lifted, swiftly catching a medium pill bottle. Opening her eyes to slits, she examined the white of the bottle.

"Caffeine pills." McMullan commented, a slight edge of disappointment in his voice. She figured it was because she caught the object before it hit her, therefore killing any hope for a laugh at her expense. She looked up at him with a frown.

"We really shouldn't sleep." He continued as if she needed an explanation.

"You think?" she replied sarcastically. She shifted and closed her eyes again.

"Ms. Grant, is now really the time to take a nap?" she heard the doctor ask. Gritting her teeth, she opened her eyes again.

"I'm not napping. I'm trying to meditate. I need to clear my head that way I don't get distracted by anything when we go out. The more relaxed I am, the easier it will be to find something and determine what's and where's. Now, if you don't mind, shut the fuck up so I can start!" she snapped. Doctor Dan turned away, offended.

Third times the charm…she closed her eyes again and was blissful in the sudden silence that surrounded her. Taking everything in her head, she carefully tucked it away in her 'back room' until everything was cleared. Sam's face, Cal's face, smiling and laughing, all the way to her cousin presenting her with two urns in her hospital room, one bigger than the other. She had felt such anger that they had done the funerary processes without her, but later she could understand. She had been in a coma. They had no idea whether she was going to live, let alone wake up to take care of things. Even when she woke up it was as if she was still sleeping. The shock of not opening her eyes to see Cal next to her smiling was too much. That shock continued for well over two years. She'd wake up in the middle of the night because his side of the bed was empty and cold. At first, she even got up to look for him.

Sam's room had remained the same as it had been when they had gone on their vacation. Dirty laundry that he had forgotten to put in the hamper, the unfinished airplane model on his night-sky motif desk, his stuffed gorilla 'Jasper' half on the bed and half off…his blankets and sheet tossed back at the corner in his haste to go…the picture of them that he had stolen from the picture box Nix kept…Sometimes, she could see him playing 'monsters' with the gorilla and his stuffed snake on the floor. The photograph had since been taken from the wall and put in Nix's wallet.

Things started to drift away for her. She made too much food, accidentally grabbed three plates instead of one, bought raspberry-lemonade kool-aid at the store because Cal and Sam loved it even though she despised it…She would find herself halfway to Sam's bus stop at four to walk home with him, the other mother's on their clean, toy-littered porches looking at her with something akin to pity. She'd stop, look around, and turn back, realizing that Sam wouldn't be getting off that bus today or any other day. She'd go back to her kitchen and tilt the peanut butter-banana sandwich into the garbage uneaten, dump the small glass of milk into the sink, and reach for the new bottle of 'Jack' or 'Jim' that she purchased the day before in a rare state of lucidness.

She wore Cal's shirts, spraying his cologne on them just to have a small piece of him back. She did the same with his pillow and blankets, sometimes just the air in the room or bathroom. She'd find herself sitting on the bed, talking to the open bathroom door, pretending to hear Cal talk back to her as he readied himself for work. Her best friend Vale called so many times. She stopped by, pounding on the door until the hinges started to consider buckling. Mail piled up in front of the door…her life had stopped. Everything had stopped. At some point, Nix found herself in the attic standing on a chair she had found tucked away in the dusty dimness, the length of a rope secured tightly around her neck. But she couldn't do it. No matter how hard she tried to step off the edge of the chair, she found herself paralyzed. She was too weak, she had thought. She couldn't do it.

She mentally shook herself and resumed her meditation. Now was not the time for memories. She could pick through her two-year-madness at a more appropriate time. Her heart beat slowed to a steady but low pace, her breathing even and deliberate. Sometime in the course of this, she heard the others step just outside the cave to talk quietly about strategy and plans.

As she was 'waking' herself, she felt a presence near her, the footfalls of her would-be surpriser silent. She immediately pegged him one of the death-dealers. The Marines, though quiet when they needed to be, could not be so silent in their issued boots. The doctor couldn't be that quiet even if his life depended on it. He was _the_ accident waiting to happen for them.

She kept her eyes closed, still breathing in slow cadence. He was kneeling in front of her. Now he was reaching towards her, his fingers outstretched towards her neck…

"That's it…come a little closer…" Nix whispered, gripping the hilt of her blade tightly as she pressed it into his groin. The man yelped and jumped back. Nix opened her eyes, glaring. It was the quiet Death Dealer.

"That was fastest draw of blade! Where you learn?" he asked, eyes widened and hand dropped between his legs as if she would lunge for him to finish the job. Russian from the sound of his accent. At least he could speak some English. Nix got to her feet slowly.

"I'm fast at a lot of things, buddy. Let's get one thing straight…" she paused, pointing the dagger at him. "You never touch my necklace or the capsules on it. Never. If you do, I will castrate you, stuff your fucking testicles up your ass, and string you up by your toes…are we clear?"

The man frowned, his eyes rolling upward and his mouth muttering something silently. After a second, his eyes widened and he looked back at her.

"Clear crystal." He breathed. Nix smiled mirthlessly.

"Good. What do you want?"

"Leaving. Lewitts said for to come you. Sadrokov…" he held his hand out. Nix studied it before shaking it, her grip firm. The pale Russian grinned, his wide-set face alight. She knelt down and grabbed her bag, slinging it carefully over her shoulder.

"You medate?" he asked. Nix looked back at him.

"I med_itated_, yes." She pointed towards the cave entrance, where she could see the Marines pacing impatiently. In such a hurry to die, Nix thought to herself. Sadrokov, though unsure at first, went ahead of her, his head turned to the side so he could watch her out the corner of his eye.

Nix merely walked past him back into the foliage, looking around. She pressed a finger to her lips to quiet the talk.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked. She grit her teeth together and swung around.

"Get in the god damn cave, Dan. Now." She ground out. The doctor frowned.

"What am I going to do there? Aren't we leaving?" he asked.

"We are leaving. You, since you obviously have no control over your mouth, are staying here. If you die, it's no big loss. In fact, I'd be willing to bet we live longer without your brain-mouth running a mile a minute."

Ramone made to protest but Lewitts interrupted.

"Ms. Grant…"

"He'll be just fine. He's weak, and I haven't seen sign of the xenomorphs. The Predators probably won't touch him unless he does something stupid, and even then I'm thinking that they would be more likely to come after us. In the mean time, there are several weapons to aid him if either come this way."

Doctor Dan looked around at everyone, hope in his eyes. The death-dealers were in silent agreement with the woman, as were all but the two Marines. When Lewitts and Ramone remained quiet, their faces pulled in equal disapproval, the Doctor slumped and went back into the cave, cursing Nix under his breath.

The woman took a deep breath and scanned the trees, listening and looking. She had taken the liberty of memorizing the placement of her surroundings, where things should be and where they had been, how they moved when the wind penetrated the thickness of the plants and trees. After a couple of minutes, she took off slowly down their path, eyes scanning the ground for so much as a snapped twig.

* * *

Blade and the unblooded watched the Oomans move, the female again at the head. The older Yautja replayed the conversation between them all, the weakling male staying behind in the cave. He heard irritation in her voice, authority. It was plain to him that she was in the lead of the group, the taller male that had spoken against her was the leader of the military four.

He watched as her eyes scanned the area, and he motioned to the other two to be silent and absolutely still. Blade had no doubt at all that she would be able to see them if they made any sort of err.

Normally, he refused to hunt the females. They were the living soul of the Ooman race, the ones that gave life and brought it into the world, creating worthy prey for the future. They were the most ferocious of the Pyode Amedha, especially when their sucklings were involved. However, most of the females did not know their strength, what they could become. They cowered at the feet of the males, doing the bidding when they could be the ones to give orders. It was rare to see a female in the power, one that knew and used her potential to it's full abilities, and it intrigued the Yautja.

When the Oomans passed, he looked at the other two.

"We will hunt the military first. Leave the female. The Z'skvy-de will be happening soon in the Oomans we found yesterday. I wish to see how she fights and if she lives."

They agreed.

They found the Oomans not far off, the female crouched to the ground, her hand pressed against something in the soft earth.

"What is, Nix?" Blade heard one of the males ask. A wide-faced man with blue eyes and dark hair. One of the Oomans with the hidden weapons. So the female's name was Nix. He mimicked it quietly, just loud enough for himself to hear.

"They are definitely here." She said softly, her hand moving back to reveal the print of a Yautja foot. Blade turned his head to the Unblooded and noticed that Ch'hkt-a was trembling again. Blade hissed his displeasure at the young Yautja, who lowered his head a fraction in submission.

"I thought they weren't supposed to leave footprints…" the red-haired man said.

"Normally, they don't. I think there must be more than one. This print is a little smaller than what I expected, possibly left by a younger male of their kind. In Antarctica, they discovered that three had come down to the pyramid to hunt. Alexa Woods mentioned that they had marked themselves after a kill, very much like the warriors of earth did in the old times. In the end, one had marked her before he died. Unfortunately, that's all we really know of her experiences because the idiots at Weyland-Yutani decided to get rid of her so they wouldn't have the possibility of competition. All that aside, this may be a hunt similar to the one in Antarctica."

"Wait minute…" the dark haired man said, holding up his hand. "They have Woods whacked? Why they not convince her to do work? She be useful! Do they do that if we live? They kill now we know too much?"

Nix pressed her hand against her eyes, another Ooman sign of irritation.

"I don't know, Sadrokov. Maybe she refused, and I honestly don't know what they plan to do to us if we live. Either way, that's not the issue at the moment. I think we are looking at three, maybe four Predator, the majority younger males, maybe one older to lead the hunt. I believe that only a younger Predator would make the mistake of leaving a trace of himself."

Blade looked at the other two, secretly impressed. She could see that with one footprint?

"What about the bugs?"

"What _about_ the bugs? So far I've seen no sign of them, and I highly doubt that they are more careful than the Predator with their footprints or movement. My guess is that they haven't made it this far, but they will soon. Either way, we still need to be on guard for both. Keep your eyes to the trees. Death from above, and all." Nix said softly, standing straight.

The lead Military stepped up to her, leaning down to her ear. Blade waited for her to lash out at him as she had the Sadrokov man. He had been amused at that little scene, the Oomans 'safely' tucked into their cave. She had moved so fast that he had to replay the scene to catch the flicker of the blade that disappeared between the man's thighs the moment he had reached out to touch her. Of course, the blade was in full view when the Ooman jumped back for fear of his reproductive organs. It was wickedly curved into a half-moon shape, the last two inches if it sharp serrated metal. Though he had paid great attention to the weapon, she obviously preferred melee weapons to ranged weapons unlike her fellows, he took into account the speed with which had been drawn. She was definitely one to watch. He was interested to see her in action.

At first Blade had wondered about his growing interest. But it had been many years since he had faced a truly worthy opponent, one that would not die too quickly. It had been quite a disappointment. Of course, if she was worthy, he would claim her as his prey and fight her, but he highly doubted that he would kill her. She needed to breed and produce sucklings like her, males worthy of a fight and their place upon the trophy wall.

The Oomans were on the move again and they dropped from the trees, following silently after Blade cautioned the younger Yautja to watch themselves. They Oomans couldn't stay together forever. Eventually, they would separate by force, and that was when the hunters would make their move.

Blade relished the thought, and let his anticipation flourish within him.

--

Z'skvy-de—The chest burster phase, when the xenemorph is birthed from the body of the host.

Suckling—child, children.


	3. Chapter 3

After two hours of slow movement through the humid forest, the group took rest upon the ground. The Marines where talking quietly amongst themselves. Nix sat with Fagan and Sadrokov, all three silent as the grave.

They were being stalked. Nix had known it not even an hour into their small journey. Above them where three of the predators, unseen so far by the rest of them. She could not speak for the two Death Dealers, however. Occasionally she could see Sadrokov glance out the corner of his eye in the direction that Nix had noted. She refused to say anything about it because she didn't want to alert the Hunters. She had no doubt that they would recognize the movements of their prey going into defense, no matter how subtle, if not the words spoken to organize themselves.

"Nix…" Nix looked at the Russian and cocked an eyebrow. His voice was almost inaudible. She pressed a finger to her lips and gave him the barest shake of the head. The man looked confused for a moment, his eyes drifting towards the Predator's position. Nix kicked him in the shin and he swung forward to her.

"Sadrokov, I'm not blind. Knock it off." She said emphatically. Again, the Russian looked confused before dawning came across his face and he nodded, massaging his shin gingerly.

"No need kick. Hurts." He complained lightly. Fagan nudged him.

"Just be glad she didn't aim higher." He said, the right sight of his mouth quirked upward in a crooked grin. Nix noticed one gold cap with a blue stone, possibly sapphire, embedded at it's center.

"What's with the stone?" Nix asked. Fagan looked back at her and grinned even wider.

"Ah. Like that do you? Actually, it's my daughter Olivia's birthstone. Twenty-one this year if you can believe it." The man said proudly. His face dropped slightly. "Course, she wants nothing to do with me. Her mother and I got a divorce when she was twelve and Jennifer's been poisoning her mind against me since. Won't even take my letters." He said, shrugging. A sad smile graced his lips after a moment. "At least I know she's doing good, though. Going to an Ivy League college and getting straight A's. Wants to be a Lawyer."

Nix looked away from him, the sudden pang in her heart unwelcome and distracting. She closed her eyes and cleared the thoughts from her mind.

"What's with the vials?" Fagan asked. Nix let go of them, unaware that she had her hand around them and opened her eyes. She stared at the red-haired man, and then the Russian who was looking expectant and interested. To her surprise, the Marines stopped speaking and looked back at her as well.

She felt pressure suffocating her from the inside out. They were all looking at her, waiting for her to say something. Why? Why were they looking at her? She clenched her jaw and looked at the ground, choosing to remain silent. She didn't know any of them. She didn't have to tell them anything, and she wouldn't.

Fagan noticed her tense and patted the top of her booted foot. It took a great deal of self control not to kick his hand for touching her.

"Never mind, Darlin'. None of our business." He said, reassuringly. The Marines looked away and began speaking amongst themselves again.

Nix tried to smile a little, but couldn't. Suddenly, her face hardened and she shot to her feet, alerting the others.

"Shut up!" she warned, stark still and ears perked. In the silence that followed, she could hear the sound of a scream somewhere not far from them. The scream of a man.

"The Doc…" Ramone said, getting to his feet.

"No." Nix quickly replied. "No, it's coming from the opposite direction. That way." She pointed. Another sound hit their ears, a shriek like the sound of nails on a chalk board. Then more of them in tandem. Sadrokov cringed.

"The Xenomorph." Nix said in a hushed tone. She immediately felt the group around her tense, the click of guns cocking. She did not reach for a weapon. Instead, she knelt to the ground and lay the side of her head on the earth, hand outstretched in front of her and closed her eyes. The vibrations of the world hit her, making sense. Her father once told her that to hear something coming through the movement waves it makes is one of the most difficult things to do, for humans. Animals, many of them, had the talent naturally. But because the human race tuned so much out, it was lost on them.

She took a breath and quieted her heart to a low beat, trying to discern anything she could. She was unaware of the strange looks that her fellows were giving her, or the interested looks of their stalkers. After a moment, she sat up and got to her feet.

"They are heading directly for us. Twenty, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two."

Lewitts cleared his throat.

"Remember, we stick together no matter what. We cover each other's backs. Don't let anything through. If anyone dies, mourn later. We can't afford to lose ourselves right now."

Nix glanced back at him. "Lewitts, we lost ourselves the moment we got off that chopper. Do you honestly think they expect any of us to come back alive?"

"We can't have that attitude, or we won't make it out." Lewitts said forcefully.

Nix smirked and turned, looking ahead. The trees were moving restlessly, the birds and wildlife silent as the dead, and somewhere ahead of her, Cal and Sam stood waiting.

* * *

The sound of the Kiande Amedha was like a song, and it filled the unblooded with a thrill that Blade could remember very well. The Oomans below them heard the screech and huddled together like their bovine creatures in a storm.

"Remember, the Pyode Amedha we encounter will only be free to you after you make your mark with the blood of your Kiande Amedha kill. The only exception is if the Oomans get in your way. If the Oomans get in your way and you must kill them, a trophy will not be taken from them. This is the Kiande Amedha Chiva. If the Oomans live, hunt them after you have taken all of Kiande Amedha. Not even a single xenemorph can live." They had been told before they left the ship. Blade was the exception to this as a Blooded warrior, but the Oomans were not high on his motivation at the moment, with the exception of the Nix.

How defensive she got when the capsules around her neck were asked about. It was enough to intrigue him further, leaving him wishing he knew as well. What could be so important to her that she centered herself protectively about it, as if her very life force were contained within?

The Unblooded looked to him and rumbled in curiosity. Blade waved his hand in the direction of the Kiande Amedha. With that permission, they jumped ahead and disappeared. Blade watched them and then looked back down at the Oomans. Weapons were in hand and ready at the smallest movement, almost every one of them coiled like serpents. The red-haired male and Nix were relaxed and centered, their eyes missing nothing. Nix did not hold a weapon.

He crouched lower to the branches, the sight of shining black creeping carefully below him to the side, out of sight of the smaller creatures below.

The female's eyes moved to the Kiande Amedha's position and her knees bent, shifting into a position very much like the Yautja above. Her hand rested on the large, dull black blade she had been using to cut down the vegetation. Blade trilled quietly in amusement. She would be better off using the ranged weapons she had like the other Oomans.

The black-haired male, Sadrokov, followed her lead. Nix held her hand back to him slowly, seeming to reach for something. Sadrokov pulled an egg-sized device from one of the hidden pockets of his clothing. She took it gently, her hand leaving the blade to pull something from the egg. Blade recognized it now. A Gr-en-ade.

Once the pin was clear, she threw it at the Kiande Amedha and rolled to her side, backing behind a tree. The explosion filled the air, blocking the sky with black smoke and heat. The Xenemorph screamed in its death, alerting the others, who moved faster in the aftermath. The Unblooded were locked in battle, their roars loud and clear now. If anything, the sound spooked the Oomans more than before.

With a yell, the Lead Military unleashed a volley of gunfire as the Kiande Amedha broke into their area. The others followed suit.

As he watched the battle unfold the Oomans fall, he was unaware of the female he had been watching so carefully swinging herself onto the same branch as him.

With admirable balance, she reached for several of the smaller projectile weapons she carried and threw them, one missing, the other three lodging themselves into the weak joints of the hard exoskeletons.

Blade swung his head around to see her, surprised. She paid him no mind. It was almost as if she did not know he was there. She pulled the dull black blade from its place on her side, as well as another that she had not used yet.

With a war-cry to rival even the Yautja warriors, she dove from the branch, straight into the mess below.

* * *

Nix was blind with adrenalin. The explosion set her off in ways she had never felt before, and before she knew it, she was scaling the tree she had used to protect herself from the blast. With a graceful heave, she stood steadily upon the branch, the cool metal of the throwing daggers leaving a tingle in her hands. Her skin felt like it was crawling, her mind was as clouded as the sky. She knew and understood one thing: fight. What made it even more firm in her mind was the sound of Cal's voice telling her to do it.

_Fight. Live. Fight. FIGHT!_

She was aware of the being next to her, but only barely. She pulled her machetes out and screamed, the yell inhuman even to her ears. Without hesitation, she jumped, blades prepared to swing. Sadrokov and Lewitts were distracted by her movement. Sadrokov immediately found the sharp ebon tail through his gut, bits of intestine tangled around it. Lewitts was lucky.

Nix landed hard on the back of the xenemorph below her, swinging the blade in a powerful arch through the creature's long head. It fell dead beneath her, acidic blood pooling and burning the ground. She immediately spun the blades in her hand, the speed throwing the caustic liquid from its metal meal. She jumped to the next one, slicing through the tale before plunging it deeply into the side of the creatures head, the blade burning away even as the creature joined its fellow. She pulled a smaller dagger from her side and jammed that into the xenemorph that was trying to pull Fagan apart.

_Blind. Unfeeling. Dull. Red. Clouded. Kill. Fight. Kill…_

She felt something pointed force its way below her collarbone, through her shoulder. With a scream of pain, she pulled herself from it, hearing the sound of crunching as she did, and pulled her gun, unloading the clip into the alien.

The clearing was devoid of life. The Marines, even Lewitts, were dead…Sadrokov…How had it happened? Weren't they supposed to be the best? She collapsed against a tree, breathing heavily. She couldn't feel her arm. Where was Fagan?

Xenemorph bodies were littered around, blood eating through everything it came in contact with. She looked to her side at the dead alien Lewitts had killed first and kicked it forcefully.

"Fuckers…Son of a bitch…" she cursed, her hand reaching up to gingerly touch the wide hole in her shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**_a/n: thank you to those who have read and reviewed. Let me warn you again that this fiction is rated MA for language, violence, and future sexual themes and intercourse. If this offends you or you are under the age of 18, do not read._**

* * *

The wound in the Ooman woman's shoulder was large, threads of muscle and shards of bone, most likely forced apart from her collarbone, were visible from Blade's place on the ground. He had jumped from the tree, stunned at the ferocity of her battle-rage. She had killed four Kiande Amedha, all but three with melee weapons, a feet that even blooded warriors sometimes couldn't or wouldn't perform, preferring to allow their cannons do the work while killing maybe one or two with their Ki'cti-pa, Naginata, or CombiStick.

She touched the bleeding wound carefully, her right arm hanging limp at her side. She looked at the blood-stained fingers.

"SHIT!" she yelled, and kicked the dead Kiande Amedha again with more force than she had a moment before. Could she not feel the pain? He had seen strong Yautja warriors howl in agony in the aftermath of being impaled by the tail of a Xenemorph. He watched her cut her outer layer of cloth, her shirt he thought it was called, and toss it aside. She still wore something to cover her breasts, for which Blade was thankful. He had never seen a naked Ooman female before, and he wasn't exactly keen to gain the experience.

She looked around her and spotted one of the dead military. With her good arm, she grabbed his ankle and pulled him roughly towards her. Taking one of her smaller blades, she cut through the bag tied to his back, revealing a few foil packages and clean clothing. She pulled the cloth from the destroyed bag, unwrapped one of the foil packages and quickly ate the contents. Blade watched in silent approval. With a wound such as hers, she would need all the energy she could get.

She looked around, spotting Sadrokov and pulled herself to him, moving through his fallen bag as well. From it, she pulled a bottle full of clear liquid, and a lighting utensil.

"Thank the Gods for the Russian." She inspected the bottle closely, the lettering on it in bold red. S-M-I-R-N-O-F-F. What did that mean?

She placed the bottle between her thighs and unscrewed the top, bringing the mouth of the bottle to her lips and taking a long swig. When she pulled the bottle away, she made a slightly bitter face and took a breath. She carefully spread a bit of the clothing she had cut from the military man's bag on the ground and lay down. After a few more breaths, she took another long swig, swallowed, pulled the bottle away, looked at the wound, and poured a torrent of it onto it.

Her face contorted and she hissed, her foot kicking the tree at her feet repeatedly with so much force that bits of bark came off on the impact. That was when the bitter smell hit him. Alcohol. Blade should have known. She was disinfecting the wound.

Slowly, she sat herself back up and piled the soiled cloth, along with several other twigs and leaves and poured a little of the alcohol on that. With a click, Blade noticed the lighting utensil flare in her hand and she brought the flame down, the rush of orange fire coming alive. She scooted back a bit and grabbed one of her longer daggers, inspected it, then grabbed a nearby rock and placed it upon it, the bladed end in the fire.

Nix pulled her knees to her chest and waited, bringing the bottle to her lips a few times, though she did not take as much as she had at first. Occasionally she placed more leaves and sticks on the fire.

After several more minutes, she pulled the leather strap that held the Military mans leg coverings up, still slick with his blood, and bent it in half, placing it in her mouth like a bit. Blade cocked his head to the side in curiosity. She scooted closer to the fire, took the blade from the fire, white hot from the blaze, and carefully pressed it into the hole.

A pained, guttural scream issued from her throat, muffled only slightly by the strap. Tears fell from her eyes as she willed her body to be still.

The Yautja took a step forward, alarmed. He had suspected that she would use the heated blade to cauterize the wound. This Ooman was either very tough or very crazy. The blade was shaking. If she was not careful, she would do more harm to herself. Not to mention that the wound, though disinfected, had not been truly cleaned.

Nix pulled the blade out and dropped it, spitting the makeshift bit from her mouth and grabbing at the wound, her body shaking and her breath gone from her. She tried to breathe, but the pain was too great. She wasn't sure if she didn't prefer the numbness she had felt only moments before.

She gasped deeply, trying to fill her lungs, but it was as if something had closed in her throat, forbidding the much needed air from entering her.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she felt dizzy. i_NO_!/i she thought,i _I MUST stay awake. I cannot pass out./i _The effects of the vodka she had had were starting to go to her head as well. The Powerbar she had eaten was swirling madly in her stomach and she felt nauseated.

She felt a gentle hand over her own. The first thing she noticed was that the skin didn't feel normal. It was pebbled and rough, but at the same time soft.

Large fingers pulled at her smaller ones, and she opened her eyes as her hand was guided down to her lap. In front of her was one of the Hunters, one of the Predators that had been stalking them. He was kneeling down on one knee, his masked face flat and expressionless. He was gigantic.

Nix gasped in surprise, the sudden and welcome rush of air entering her lungs so quickly that she coughed, crying out at the sharp twinge she received from the hole.

The Predator pulled his hand away an inch or so before tilting his head to the side and rumbling quietly at her. Nix stared at the glassy red eyes of the mask. She set her jaw and tilted her chin up a margin, weakly.

"Don't touch me." She said, her voice quiet and hoarse from the combination of alcohol, screaming, and the lack of air.

The Predator growled and pointed at the wound, before moving his finger to point at the knife. Her eyes flickered briefly to the knife before she looked back at him, still trying to act as she normally would. The fog in her head was increasing.

* * *

Blade sighed in frustration. He should have known the Ooman would be obstinate. He should have stayed cloaked and let her pass out before he attempted to help her.

He cycled through all the phrases and words he had recorded on his hunts for the Pyode Amedha. When he found one appropriate, he played it.

"Man, that fucker nailed you good." A tenor male's voice played. The woman flinched slightly, her eyes going wide and her eyebrow cocking upwards. Blade found another.

"Oh my God, you're hurt! Let me help you!" a woman's voice this time. A look of confusion came across Nix's face for a moment, before curiosity replaced it.

"Why in the hell would you want to help me? Don't you hunt my kind for sport?" she asked. Blade felt slight relief that she had finally caught on. He knew she wasn't stupid, and now he realized that she didn't grasp the concept that he might actually want to help her.

He pointed at her, and gestured to the area around them; the dead Hard Meat and her companions.

"If we're surrounded by something, we're dead." Her voice played back to her. He pointed to her again and played back a single word, in Sadrokov's voice.

"Live." Except that it sounded more like a question as he had been asking whether or not they would be killed for knowing to much if they lived, but Nix understood.

"You're helping me because out of everyone, including all the Xenemorph, I lived?" she asked skeptically. Blade merely nodded to her and positioned her. She tensed and tried to fight him off, her attempts feeble, but irritating. He played her voice back to her.

"Knock it off!"

She looked taken aback. Blade could say he was having fun now. He could tell it was disconcerting to Nix when she could hear the words of not only herself, but her fallen comrades and those she had never known being twisted around to be used against her.

Blade knew a great deal of the human language, like a good few of the older Yautja. Their kind picked up languages easily and quickly. However, the effort it took to pronounce and get the words in the right order was something that took time, and he had never been very patient before. Sure, he could mimic, but it was so much easier to cycle through all the recordings he had made. Besides, it effectively frightened or quieted his prey. A large, intimidating Yautja trying to speak English and butchering the language could be considered humorous, much like the Oomans who laughed when those from another country were trying to ask for the bathroom and accidentally stated instead that he liked monkey oysters in urine sauce, or something equally strange without realizing it.

He grabbed a shirt from the pile of still-clean clothing and pressed it to the ground, pushing Nix gently onto it. She resisted only slightly before relaxing.

Blade pulled his medkit from its place on his belt and opened it. He had never used the items within on an Ooman before, and he wasn't sure if any of it would work. He took the shrapnel extractor from its place and studied the wound, picking out what needed to be taken out before it was healed. Carefully, he pressed the cool metal in the take one of the few shards of shattered bone out. She flinched and he heard her grind her teeth. He growled low in his throat, her sudden jolt losing him his place.

He decided to try something different. Straddling her, he knelt down and pressed his arm across her chest to keep her from moving, but also in a way that he could use both hands. He kept his weight from crushing her, glad that he was used to the stress it took to keep his muscles locked above her.

He withdrew the shards one by one, dropping them to the side. He scanned the wound to make sure he had gotten everything and got up. She tried to sit and he turned his head.

"Nix…" he replayed Sadrokovs voice. With a frown, she lay back down. Blade scanned the area. He needed silicone and limestone for the antiseptic gel. He wandered around the clearing, Nix watching him from her place on the ground, the bottle tipping to her lips once again.

* * *

Nix watched him, wondering what he was looking for, if he was looking for anything. She saw him go to a large rock embedded deeply in the ground, staring at it. Then, the cannon on his shoulder came to life and blasted at it, bits of it flying everywhere. He gathered a good few of the smaller pieces and went back to her, taking a device from the kit next to her and pressing its center. With the sound of metal on metal, it morphed into a large bowl with a flame at the center of it. Nix jumped and he growled, though it sounded less like the forceful one he had employed earlier. Nix took it for amusement and relaxed.

The Predator dumped the fragments of rock into the bowl and took the bottle from her hand, ignoring her loud protest as he smashed it into pieces, and added the glass.

He pulled a vial of blue liquid from the kit and poured it in with the rock and glass and sat back as the flame in the bowl flared almost explosively. Nix flinched again, then willed herself to relax. She had made it this far with most of her cool intact.

The flame disappeared at what replaced it was a bowl full of blue goo. Nix looked at it, skepticism in place before she looked at the Predator.

He pointed at the goo and then at the hole in her shoulder. He took a small spatula-looking applicator from the kit and pointed at that as well, before scooping a large amount of the stuff onto it.

Nix frowned.

"Pain." He said in a simple warning, the first time he had spoken without using the recordings. He grabbed the makeshift bit she had used before and handed it to her. She replaced it in her mouth and watched him with large eyes as he lowered the spatula to her wound.

* * *

The next thing she felt was far worse than any pain she had ever experienced. Worse than giving birth to Sam, worse than how she felt after she woke from the accident, worse than getting impaled by the xenemorph tail, and worse than trying to cauterize the damn thing herself.

Swirls of red, black, and white played behind her eyelids as she squeezed them shut. So bad was the pain that she couldn't even scream, let alone draw a breath to try. She felt her muscles spasm, her back arching painfully towards the sky, her muscles locked so tightly that she felt as if she had turned to stone.

The Predator clicked at her. He lifted her and turned her over, giving her a minute to relax, her body shaking in shock and her breath gasping.

He tapped her back and scooped another amount of the gel up, then smeared that on the matching hole in her back. She hissed and clawed at the ground, her back arching again.

This time, a scream did erupt from her, long and piercing. It echoed through the forest, scattering birds and animals. The two Yautja, now young blooded warriors, looked up from their kills, the mark of their first hunt upon their brows and their trophies in hand. They had killed the last of the Kiande Amedha and fired what was left of the eggs, erasing everything else that indicated alien presence to the Oomans.

At the sound of the scream, they ran forward, afraid that they had missed one of the swift creatures.

--

_Hoped you like this one too!_

_Ki'cti-pa—Double-edged wrist blades_

_Naginata—Spear that is both weapon and ceremonial trophy._


	5. Chapter 5

Blade watched the Ooman woman's body relax and her breathing slip into a slow rhythm. She was unconscious. He almost felt bad for her. The Yautja had great pain tolerance, far surpassing that of the humans, even a woman. The fact that she had stayed awake this long, despite the alcohol she had consumed and the blood she had lost, was commendable.

He returned her to her back, and stared. He had not had much of a chance to truly study her. He had never seen a human with so many dark spots on their skin. He supposed she was attractive for an Ooman; he had definitely seen worse in his years. She had a more primal quality to her than the other Oomans he had seen. Her body was lean and fit, and reminded him of a softer, and significantly smaller, Yautja female.

He sat back on his haunches, contemplating the battle. Her comrades had fallen, taking maybe one or two hard meats with them with their ranged weapons before dying. She had climbed the tree and jumped right into the fray. That was something that Blade could not understand. Sure, he could understand bravery or battle rage, but there was a fine line between bravery or battle rage, and stupidity or suicide.

He turned to the two Youngblood Yautja that dashed into the clearing and eyed them speculatively through his mask. They looked taken aback.

"I could hear you think, pups." He growled. Ch'hkt-a jumped an inch.

"We thought we heard more Kiande Amedha." The other one informed him, looking at the clearing and the dead Hard Meat. "Good hunting, Zazin!"

"And if I were to tell you that this little Ooman female killed all that were left of them, Li'ct-ha? What would you say?" he countered back. It was funny to think that since his own Kiande Amedha Chiva, he had preferred the name that a man called 'Pitor' had given him. He had always had a softer spot for Oomans, something that his kind rarely put up with unless they were worthy. That compassion put him in line as an Arbitrator when he grew tired of the hunt. He still had many years before that, however.

Unblooded and inexperienced, he had discovered the Ooman male Pitor fighting the Kiande Amedha for his life. Blade had prepared to fight the man, but he simply lay down his weapons and backed away, letting him take over. He had killed the Hard Meats, but he had been horribly wounded. If Pitor hadn't have been there, he wouldn't have made it.

Pitor called him Blade as he cared for the young Yautja's wounds, and explained, after Zazin had growled at the simple, meaningless name, that the reason behind it was because he favored his edged weapons, and that the blade was sharp as edged glass, and taken up in honorable battles. He had decided to let the Ooman call him whatever he wanted, as he had no intention of speaking to him.

By the time he and the Ooman parted ways, the nickname had grown on him. He had not told anyone else his experience and second name, but he kept it close to his heart just the same. Perhaps that was why he had helped Nix. He had been reckless in battle rage as well. He saw a bit of himself in her. He hoped that Pitor would smile down upon him from wherever his afterlife was. He had fulfilled the promise to help another who needed him.

At his posed question, Li'ct-ha took a step back. "The _Ooman_ killed them?" he said skeptically.

"Yes," Blade answered, standing. "Four hard meat, three of them using a melee weapon, one was killed by that ranged weapon." He pointed out the gun on the ground.

"And she killed the last one after it had impaled her with its tail."

The two Youngbloods looked at each other. "Did you not kill any of them?"

Blade was silent for a moment.

"I have hunted Kiande Amedha many times. It is your Chiva, not mine." He stated.

He looked back down at Nix. She was still sleeping. He expected her to stay that way for a while.

"And what do we do with her now? She has seen us and the hard meat. Should she not die?" Ch'hkt-a asked, nudging the woman unceremoniously with his foot. Blade growled low in his throat at the motion, and grabbed his arm roughly.

"You will show the proper respect! Ooman, though she may be, she fought bravely and has earned her life. You will _not_ shove her about as if she were nothing but Ghequo shit under your foot!"

The high-strung Youngblood nodded and took several steps back. Wisely, Li'ct-ha kept his distance and silence during the exchange. Once his fellow was put in his place, he gazed at the Ooman with hooded eyes, trying to decide if she were capable of such a feet. She was most definitely muscled, her body hard and defined. She had several scars upon her dark, spotted skin, even one on her face. Her scalp was nearly hairless, something he figured was an attempt to make her look more masculine, but it was impossible to think of her as masculine with the barely-covered milk-glands that rose and fell obviously upon her chest. Plus, she carried some of the more subtle scars upon her stomach and hips that Ooman Mothers got when breeding. He thought her attractive for an Ooman woman, though no less strange looking to his eyes. What stumped him further was that he longed to touch her skin and feel the muscle beneath, the scars that lined her skin telling of possible battles and narrow escapes. He kept his hands to himself and looked at the older Yautja. He could sort of see now where Zazin's fascination came from.

"What do we do with the Yeyinde, then, Zazin?" he asked softly. Blade looked to him and gave him the briefest nod of approval.

"I have not decided yet, Youngblood. I am unsure of leaving her alone here, though I know that there is at least one other Ooman in her party that is still alive. The one that she commanded to stay behind. There may be another that escaped, but I have not seen him."

A glint of silver caught Li'ct-ha's eye and he saw a necklace with two small capsules laying on the ground near his foot. He bent and grabbed them, studying them. They were engraved in the Ooman language, which he could not understand. He closed his hand carefully around them.

"Why not drop her in her cave, then?" Ch'hkt-a asked, still skeptical of her supposed prowess. Before Blade could say anything, Li'ct-ha punched the other Youngblood in the arm.

"She's wounded, S'yuit-de _pauk-de_." Li'ct-ha cursed him. Ch'hkt-a hissed and pushed him hard, sending the slightly smaller Yautja into a tree with a crack.

"_Ki'cte_!" Blade roared, pushing them farther apart. "If you do not behave, I will send you back to your Sires with the recommendation you be put back to nursery with the other sucklings!" he threatened, looking mostly at Ch'hkt-a.

"She's awake." Li'ct-ha said quietly, motioning to the Ooman, whose eyes were open, but narrowed, her hand clutching at the antiseptic-cauterized wound.

Blade looked down at her and dropped to a crouch next to her. He pointed at the wound.

"Better now?" he asked. The woman stared at him quietly for a moment before nodding.

"It still burns like hell, but it's nothing compared to that crap you put on it." She answered. Blade chuckled. She turned her gaze warily to the other two Yautja. Absentmindedly, her hand reached for her necklace. When her fingers touched bare skin instead of slightly-warmed metal, her eyes widened and she shot to her feet, looking around.

Blade took a step back, growling in warning.

"Not move much, Ooman. Healing!" Blade told her, touching her shoulder. She flinched out of his grasp and growled right back at him.

"My necklace! Where is it?" she asked, her voice venomous. The Youngblood looked at the jewelry in his hand. Nix caught the movement.

"Give it to me. Give it to me _now_! _Right now_!" she yelled, starting after him, hand outstretched. At the threatening tone, Ch'hkt-a hissed at her and extended his wrist blades.

Blade rumbled at him.

"Why so important, Ooman?" Blade asked, a humored undertone in his voice at her anger over such a small thing.

She ignored him and jumped for Li'ct-ha, trying to pry the necklace from his hand. The Youngblood, hesitant to hurt her, raised his hand over his head where she couldn't reach it.

Blade closed his eyes and shook his head. Like an irritating older brother keeping his sister's doll from her just to tease her.

"Give it to me! Please! Don't…Don't ruin them. Don't take them away from me!" her voice was panicked now, and it made Blade pause and reconsider for a moment. He watched her desperately try to reach the silver necklace, all in vain of course. Whatever was contained within those capsules were extremely important to her. She reeked of fear, the first time he had scented it from her.

"Give them to her." He ordered. The Youngblood immediately did as he was told and gave her the necklace. With a relieved sigh, she scrutinized the vials carefully, looking for any sort of deformity, before slipping it over her neck and holding them reverently in her hand, the beginnings of frightened and frustrated tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Away with your weapon, Ch'hkt-a!" he did as he was told, watching the Ooman continue to cradle the silver with a repulsed expression.

"Don't touch them again. Don't take them from me." She breathed, eyes hard, looking at Blade. Them?

"What is there?" he pointed at the capsules.

Nix frowned at him. "You take off your mask and show me what's under it, and I'll tell you."

Her fire was back. Blade was glad to see the fear leave her. Li'ct-ha laughed, leaning against the tree. She obviously didn't expect the Yautja to agree to such terms. This should be interesting. No Yautja had ever put up with the impudence of a human to his knowledge. Though he was beginning to like the Ooman a little, he wanted to see what would happen.

Blade glanced at his two charges before turning to Nix. Slowly, he lifted his hand and detached the tubes that fed him air from his homeworld, and pulled the mast from his face.

Nix's eyes widened and her mouth opened in a small gape. Blade tilted his head.

"One ugly Mother-fucker?" he asked, pointing at his face, his mouth pulling into an amused grin, which he was sure would scare the Ooman more. He could not count how many times he and his fellow Yautja had been called that. Many of them had no idea what it meant, but those few that took the time to learn the human language usually looked it up and learned it's meaning first.

But, instead of screaming, she grinned and threw her head back, a laugh escaping her lips.

Li'ct-ha watched her breasts bounce with interest, glad that nobody would see where his eyes were. He knew that he wouldn't have her; it was most definitely frowned upon, with the chance of a relegation in Caste, but it didn't hurt to admire while he could. After a moment, he looked away, shame filling him. When she finally stopped laughing a minute later, she shook her head.

"I'm sure no more to me than I am to you." She replied, her face gradually drawing a serious expression.

After another few moments of quiet, Blade pointed at her necklace.

"Your turn."

She looked down at the capsules and sighed, her head reaching for something in the back pocket of her leg coverings. She pulled a small square of glossy paper out and handed it to him.

Blade saw an adult Ooman male, and a suckling male, both smiling next to a woman that looked like Nix, but was too soft in the face and had long hair.

"They hold the ashes of my husband and my son." She whispered, caressing the silver. "They died four years ago in a car wreck. Some teenagers were racing down the road. We were pulling out of a restaurant, and we got hit on the left side where Sam and Cal were sitting. They told me that Sam died instantly. Cal died two hours later in the helicopter on the way to the hospital from massive head injuries and internal hemorrhaging…" her voice was even lower now.

The Youngbloods did not understand her, and looked curiously at Blade. The Older Yautja stared at the picture of the three of them. Nix looked happy in the picture. To lose one's Mate and Suckling must have been devastating. Though Yautja did not mate for life, he knew that most Ooman's did. To carry her passed loved ones around her neck meant that she had still not accepted the loss of them. That revelation was even clearer with the reaction to the temporary misplacement of them.

He looked at the Ooman female, his red-orange eyes piercing. Despite the bravery and strength she had shown, he could see her for what she truly was now; fragile and broken. She separated herself from others, and did not spare grief for those scattered around her.

It was obvious to him now that she had not jumped into the Kiande Amedha out of bravery, at least not at first. She had jumped in expecting, and possibly hoping, to die.

--

_Pauk-de- Expletive_

_S'yuit-de- low and demeaning, description of something._

_Ki'cte- 'Enough!'_

_Yeyinde- Brave one_

_Zazin means: Totally centered, within oneself. It is Blade's true name._

_Li'ct-ha is a fictitious name created by me._

_Thank you for reading, and thank you to those who have reviewed! Please let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

Nix was slightly unnerved by the stare that the large creature was directing at her. It was as if it was picking her apart piece by piece and judging each and every miniscule fraction. She frowned and let the capsules fall against her chest. Without another word, she turned and knelt down by the now smaller pile of clothing.

She grabbed a faded blue shirt, the words _Semper Fi _lettered across the front in a dull black. She felt naked. She had ripped her shirt off to get to the wound beneath, leaving her in nothing but the thin, black sports bra that was damp with sweat and smeared with slow-drying mud. At the time, she had been in too much pain to care or even realize that someone or something might be watching.

She pulled the shirt on and straightened it down over her torso. Several sizes too big at least. She grimaced as she moved around a little, hating the loose fabric that hung from her and made movement more difficult than usual.

Trying to ignore the three sets of eyes that were watching her, she grabbed a knife and cut the long bottom of the shirt off, leaving the ragged and rolling hem hanging just above the top of her pants. The sleeves were next, torn away and dropped onto one of the dead bodies of her former companions. It was still too loose, but she moved a tiny bit better. Sighing, she retrieved the cut hem of the bottom of the shirt and tied it around her waist, the wide, flaring bottom now in order. She knew it looked stupid, but she couldn't really care less.

"You jump to battle." The large one stated. Nix looked back at him, still frowning. The Predator gestured around the clearing, then pointed at the tree branch from which she had leapt.

"Yes. I jumped into the battle." She said slowly. She crouched down next to one of the dead Marines, Ramone, and unhooked the Leatherman, slipping into her back pocket. She continued through all of them and took what was salvageable. Nix knew she should be feeling wrong about doing it, but they were dead, she was alive, and if she had any hope of staying that way, she would need as much help as she could get. The aliens standing behind her would only be entertained by her for so long.

She looked around and counted the dead bodies. Fagan was not among them. She knew that. She was just finally wondering about it.

Scowling, she turned on them.

"The red-headed man. Fagan. Did you see where he went?" She asked. The one that had 'saved' her shook his head in the slightest of gestures.

The predators suddenly slipped into defensive stance, the weapons on their shoulders training to something behind her. She felt something sharp press into her back, and an arm wrap itself around her neck before she could react.

"Right here, sweetums. Miss me?" Fagan's voice breathed in her ear. She shivered involuntarily.

"What the fuck are you doing, Fagan?" she hissed, trying to move away. His muscled arm held her solidly to him.

"Protecting my future assets. Don't know if that wonder-bastard from Weyland-Yutani told you or not, but the less that come back, the more money the survivors get, on account of the fact that it's less money they have to spend to track the others down and kill them like they did that blabbing bitch, Woods. Of course, there's no saying that they won't come after me in the end, but I've got a survival instinct to beat all. It appears that you do too."

Nix felt something rough and wet roll along the length of her neck.

"Get the fuck off me Fagan or I'll rip your balls off." She spat venomously. She noticed three red dots traveling over her shoulder and Fagan shifted. Hiding behind her like a coward.

"Tell your new-found friends to back off."

Nix actually laughed.

"Do you honestly think they could care less about whether I'm dead or alive? They live for the hunt, Fagan. You got the same info as me. What's one more dead human to them?"

Fagan backed up, dragging her along. The knife was sharp in her back, and with Cal's voice still ringing in her ears to live, she didn't want to press her luck. She could struggle, but what would it get her but possible paralysis or death? She didn't think the Predator's blue, burning wonder-goo would help that.

The leader and the shorter of the two smaller ones growled low and took a step forward.

"Somehow, it seems to me that they might care a little bit." He whispered in her ear. "Now, lets go for a short jaunt, shall we? By the way, I hope you didn't have any questions for Doctor Dan. I'm afraid his untimely death at the hands of some crazed creature and a taut electrical cord might make it a little difficult for him to answer."

Nix suppressed another shiver as he dragged her farther back from the clearing, his arm tightening to a near choke-hold around her neck.

"Nice shirt by the way…" he commented, almost as if he were talking about a beautiful day. "Who's was it? Lewitts'? Ramone's? Maybe McMullian's?"

Nix noticed that the Predators had halted their advance and she could barely see them through the trees.

"Now, honey, we've got a 'copter to catch. See, I got me one of those black devils trussed up back at the cave, and I'm dying to cash it in. Maybe we can go to a beach somewhere. White beach, light blue ocean, maybe a few palm trees and a cooler full of Corona and lime? You can wear one of those skimpy little bikini's and walk around in front of me a little. That sound good?" the point of the knife pressed deeper into her back and Nix clamped her teeth together.

"No way in hell am I going anywhere with you." She grit out.

"I think you'll change your mind, Miss Nixlyne. Say, who gave you that name anyway? Was it your daddy or your momma?"

Nix didn't answer. They were gone from sight now, and even though she knew they could come after her cloaked, she doubted they would. Her words had been true enough before Fagan dragged her back. What _was_ another human to them?

She was by no means defenseless. Her body was covered head to toe in weapons she either had before or had scavenged from the bodies. She tried to reach for a gun.

"Keep that fucking hand away from that pistol or I'll jam this thing into your spine so quickly that you won't know what happened. I'm being uncharacteristically charitable, right now. Don't test me." He snapped. He stopped and threw her hard into a tree, pulling weapons from her person as she slammed into it. He pressed his body against hers, knife hard against her throat, the other hand taking great care to search her thoroughly for weapons. Nix let out a loud scream, trying to struggle and he punched her with so much force her head knocked back into the tree. Dazed and still tired from the pain, she started to collapse to her knees.

Fagan pressed a knee between her legs and kept her up.

"Now, now. I want you awake for this, honey. Don't pass out on me." He said gently. He ran the tip of the blade down her chest and rested it between her breasts, his other hand reaching between her legs, caressing her clothed groin. Her fist shot out and nailed him in the nose.

Fagan took a step back in shock, his face scrunched together in pain.

"You fucking bitch!" he howled. Nix, eyes wild with rage, leapt and kicked him solidly in the chest. The sound of a few cracks met her ears and she smiled as he howled again.

"Nobody fucking touches me, you son of a bitch!" she grabbed a knife from the ground and impaled him in the stomach with a quick thrust. Fagan gasped, his hands grasping for her throat.

Nix twisted the blade and tilted it up, using the heel of her palm to drive it farther in. The death-dealer's eyes widened further, then rolled into the back of his head, collapsing upon the ground, fingers dragging on her roughly-tailored shirt.

She glared at the body of Fagan for a moment, hands shaking. There was a touch on her shoulder and a series of clicking. She stepped away.

"Don't touch me." She said quietly, turning to look at the strangely distorted air at her side. She recognized the wrist blades that one of them had threatened her with moments before.

The three appeared before her again. The short one looked down at Fagan and roared. The eldest took Nix around the arms and pulled her away from the corpse.

"You hurt?" he asked.

"No." Nix answered. She looked towards the canopy of the forest, seeing the slightest bits of blue sky through the clouds. Lousy fucking day. Really lousy fucking day.

"You go home." The Predator said. Nix laughed bitterly.

"I have no home. I live in hotels. I have nothing but my life, and not even that is worth much."

She landed a kick to the dead man on the ground and began strapping the weapons back onto her body.

The predators stood around her, talking to themselves in the language she couldn't understand. She ignored them and grabbed a bottle of water that hung on a string from Fagan's side. She took a sip of it then dumped the rest over her head, smoothing it over her scalp and skin. The humid air, with the slightest of breezes, felt good.

She checked her compass, glad that it had not broken amidst the fight and the episode with the redheaded fuck at her feet. Once she got her bearings, she started walking.

"Nix…" she heard Sadrokov's voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder. The eldest had taken a step towards her.

"You home with us. Me. You hunt. Part of us." He said. Nix didn't understand at first, but she got it after a minute.

"You want me to come home with you and hunt as a part of your…your what? Group? Clan?"

"Clan." The one answered.

"What the fuck is your name anyway?" Nix asked, eyebrow cocking.

Blade played the man's voice, dead these many years, back to her.

"Blade." Then he looked at the other two Yautja standing at his sides.

"Or Zazin. This L'ict-ha, and this Ch'hkt-a."

Nix nodded.

"Won't I be killed the moment I set foot on your ship?"

Blade thought for a moment. He didn't think so. She would certainly need to be guarded, at least until he spoke with the Elder. There had been a couple of instances where humans were adopted into clans, so he didn't think it would be very difficult, especially when he told them the story of her battle. He still needed to mark her.

He took her arm and led her back to the clearing, not listening to the protests. Taking one of his smaller tools, he dipped the end of it in a pool of blood, before turning to her.

He tapped his forehead, then hers. After a second, she sighed and nodded. Blade stared at her a moment longer. For an Ooman to be marked was the highest honor. She held still as he brought the acidic blood to her skin, quickly, but neatly drawing the symbol of his clan into her skin. She had squeezed her eyes shut and gripped his other arm tight enough to make it uncomfortable, but she made no sound otherwise.

Once that was done, he cleaned the tool off and tucked it into place, surveying his work. She had taken down four Hard meat. She was more than worthy enough to wear the mark, and for better or worse, accepted or not, she was now technically apart of the clan.

"We go now."

--

_Sorry it has taken me so long! Life has been hectic. Spent last week in the hospital with my husband, then we were evacuated because of a wild fire, and now we are packing to move. I didn't know how long I would have to wait before I could get back online, so I wanted to post this. Thank you to all of those who are reading this. I hope you are enjoying it this far!_

_Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading._


	7. Chapter 7

The ship was cold, and the room in which she stayed was even colder. Nix didn't think she had stopped shaking since the second day.

Nix shivered and drew the thick furs around her person, the steam vents and temperature controls doing nothing for her. The predators had their scant netting. She had the regret of boarding the damn ship altogether.

Apparently, she had been more knowing of her fate than her new friends had been. The moment she set foot on the large craft, she was assaulted by roars that rattled her very bones. She had even been hit so hard that she was out cold for five days, and that was when she woke in the small room with something she assumed was a toilet, and nothing else.

Nix had survived in worse conditions before. This was cake.

She had not seen Blade since entering the massive ship. The only Predator she had seen so far had been what could only be a female of the species. Several feet taller than Blade or the other males Nix had seen, her thighs looked powerful enough to crush a human head between them, and that was what Nix was eyelevel with when the Huntress entered. The rest of her was lean and muscular, her skin a bright white with the faintest of off-white mottling. The strange dreadlocks were also a pure white, decorated with golden-copper rings. The creature's breasts were heavy and secured by armor similar to what the three in the jungle had been wearing, though it was white as the rest of her. Nix could honestly say that the creature was beautiful for being an alien.

The female came to Nix's little room once. She had stood silently, watching the much smaller female through the pale gold lenses of her mask. Then, as if she had decided something silently, she nodded briefly, dropped the pile of furs onto the floor from an unseen pack of some sort Nix had not seen, turned and left the room, the door sliding shut behind her with a quiet hiss.

Nix was on the pile before the door was completely closed.

Now, Nix was bundled back in her corner, her stomach growling. It had been giving her grief since she woke. She was offered nothing to drink or to eat, and though Nix could say she had indeed been through worse, at least she had been able to scavenge something. The room held nothing but bare, cool wall and floor, and she wasn't quite desperate enough to try the hides that served as her only warmth.

Sighing, she lay back, staring at the black ceiling, watching the red lights flicker darkly against the wall.

She heard the sound of the door and looked up, half expecting the female.

The shorter of the two younger Predators. She didn't know his name. Nix stood, dumping the furs from her person.

"Hey! Where's Blade? Or Zazin?" she asked, her voice slightly rasping from the dryness. In her haste, a wave of vertigo hit, and she closed her eyes to gain balance.

She felt a hand grab her bad shoulder and it shot with pain, overloading her already frayed strength and control.

Nix sank to her knees and dry retched, one hand clasping the wound.

When her body stopped its spasms, Nix heard a soft trilling above her.

She glanced up at the clawed hand offered, and with slight hesitation and embarrassment at her weakness, took it.

The Predator pulled her to her feet and patted her back as gently as he could. Nix glared up at him.

He ignored the look and wound his arm around her waist, pulling her along at his pace, wary of another reaction.

The human woman tried to pull away and regain some dignity, her body trembling from cold most likely, but Li'ct-ha held her too tightly. He voiced an irritated click at her, and shook his head once. He was doing a dangerous thing right now, something that could very well cause him to be banished if he was discovered by the wrong person. Well, it could very well get him and Zazin banished. Ch'hkt-a would have nothing to do with the human woman they took into the clan.

From the moment they began boarding the ship, the slightly older Yautja had kept his distance, growling in irritation. When questions of the human's presence began rising, the young blood had stepped even further back, claiming he had been against it the entire time. He insisted that he had tried to be the voice of reason, and that despite his suggestions to kill the weaker creature; he had been put to the wayside and ignored by Zazin. Though the Elder had not believed him at first, Zazin vouched that his story was true. If the Nix creature was not accepted by the clan and he was exiled for bringing and marking prey, he would not drag the younger Yautja down with him. Li'ct-ha, however, had stayed loyally at Zazin's side, throwing his lot in with them.

He liked the human female, even if she was an ugly creature. Besides, it was only her face that made him falter. The rest of her looked like a Yautja female that hadn't grown into her height yet. If you put a mask on her, she would look no different then them.

The young blood looked down at the woman. Deep shadows lingered under her amber eyes, and the hollow of her cheeks were more prominent in the week in a half she had been secluded. He briefly wondered at the furs he had seen. He knew for certain that it had been neither he nor Zazin that brought them to her.

The two of them had been in counsel meetings the entire time, trying to convince them of Nix's worthiness to bear the mark of honor.

He rounded a corner and punched in a code, waiting for the door to slide open.

"Where are we going? Am I going to die now?" the little female asked, her voice cracking from lack of use. Li'ct-ha glanced down at her, trying to find the right words, but he didn't know her language well enough. He remained silent instead.

When the door finally opened, he pulled her quickly inside and let go of her. Nix stumbled a little and steadied, glaring balefully over her shoulder at him.

"Nix…"

Nix looked back at the Predator who spoke her name. Red-orange eyes studied her carefully from a corner of the room, and Nix started forward.

"Blade." She breathed, a look of relief on her face. If this Predator was here, her chances at staying alive were better.

"Eat, Nix. Need to eat." He pointed at her and then gestured towards a bowl atop a slab of metal, filled with something that looked like raw meat. Never one to pass up food when she had had none, cooked or not, Nix had the bowl in a flash, a perfect cube of marbled, red flesh disappearing into her mouth.

The meat had a tangy taste to it, almost spicy, but it was tender and practically melted in her mouth the moment she began to chew. She wiped a drop of bright blood from the corner of her mouth and took another chunk from the bowl.

"Thank you." She said gratefully, looking at Blade as she shoved the second piece into her mouth. She ignored the eyes of the younger Yautja as she ate, who was watching her with fascination. She could just think of the questions that were going through his mind. After a second, she stopped and looked at the slab for anything she might have missed, like an eating utensil. She found nothing and continued on with her hands, deciding that she didn't care if she looked uncivilized.

When the bowl of meat was empty, she set it back on the slab-table and looked at Blade expectantly.

"So, am I going to die? Are they going to drop me off on Earth? Or am I accepted?" she highly doubted that she was accepted, and if she wasn't, she doubted even more still that they would just release her and be done with it. She watched the large Predator's chest rise and fall in a sigh, his mandibles seeming to twitch in frustration.

"Our fate is unsure. Elders are still talking." He answered, running a clawed finger down the side of her face. Nix turned her head in the slightest move, an unspoken.

"You said that other clans had adopted humans into their ranks before. Did it take this long with them too?" she wondered. She was beginning to feel strength come back to her body already.

"Longer." Blade answered. He shifted the shirt over her shoulder carefully. It was the same shirt she had worn boarding the ship, with _Semper Fi _across the front of it. Blade smelled the odor of sweat and dirt on it, oils from her body that had gone sour in the time she had been locked up, along with sickly bittersweet stench from her wound and an underlying smell that was centered at the juncture of her legs. Heady and potent, he imagined it would be, if she were in heat. Close to irresistible. The scent, however, had blended badly with the others. She desperately needed to bathe.

He took in the sight of the crudely healed hole where the Kiande Amedha had impaled her. The skin around it was bright red and shining, and the center of the patched flesh was slightly green under the violently red skin. Infected, the cause of the bitter-sweetness he had scented.

"The wound is infected. It will need to be taken care of immediately before it gets worse."

The Yautja watched Nix's eyes widen and she looked down. He switched the sights to get a better look at her insides. An abscess the size of his fist was barely two of the human's millimeters from the skin. There was also internal bleeding around the area, not to mention gangrene, and the infection was close to her lungs. If left to continue, she could quite possibly die very soon.

Unfortunately, the healer on the ship was a proud female who despised the thought of prey sullying the ship she called her home. There was no way that Vonre would help Nix.

Blade started. The human woman was staring off into nothing, her eyes glazed and her lip trembling in time with the rest of her body. Her eyes were dry, so she was not crying. Blade would guess that she was in shock.

"Who was the female that visited me?" she asked softly. Blade frowned, his lower mandibles flaring slightly. Someone had visited her?

"What female? I know of no one that has been cleared to see you. Not even we are allowed. If they catch us here, or find your room empty, you will be killed and we will be exiled. What did she look like?"

Nix looked at the floor, her eyes clearing.

"She was beautiful. Her skin and armor was white. Her dreadlocks were as well. She had spots like these," she paused and indicated with her good arm the pattern upon Blade's skin, "but they were just slightly darker a white then the rest of her. Her mask has gold lenses in them, instead of red, and instead of silver rings like yours, they were golden-copper. She didn't say anything. She just stood there staring at me for a long while, gave me some furs to keep me warm, and left the room."

Blade froze. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Li'ct-ha had as well. She could not possibly be speaking of who she was describing. No female had ever been born of pure white coloring, except for one. One female, and she was the one they prayed to. She was Paya, alongside Cetanu the Black God, and her appearance was known to every suckling pup from their birth to their death. How could this Human female know of her and describe her so well?

"Are you sure you saw what you saw?" If she did, then it could change the entire situation. Though, whether it was for the good or for the worse, Blade did not know.

Nix looked indignantly up at him, her hand covering her shoulder.

"Of course, I'm sure. I may have been starving, exhausted and in shock, but I'm pretty fucking sure I saw what I said I saw."

Blade stared at her, deadpanned. Li'ct-ha stepped forward, looking anxiously at the door.

He motioned behind him and spoke, though Nix didn't understand a word.

"_We need to get her back before the meeting adjourns. If I'm careful, I may be able to treat wound later with your help when the ship quiets, but we must go now."_

Blade nodded.

"Time to go." He pulled the sleeve down again and picked her up, tucking her carefully into his chest. Nix stiffened, fists clenched, jaw set. She hated being touched.

Li'ct-ha watched his mentor scoop the human up. A sudden feeling stabbed at his insides and he quickly stifled a growl at the sight. Confused, he searched inwardly, trying to figure it out.

Jealousy. Why? His mandibles twitched irritably as they had when she had fought him in the beginning of the sneak-escape. She had fought him just for putting his arm around her to keep her steady. Now, as Zazin was actually holding her in what the young blood considered a nearly intimate way, all she did was stiffen and remain silent.

The young Yautja found himself wishing that she would accept him just as mildly. In fact, his mind even went further into the wish. He wished that if he were to hold her to him like that, she would actually wind her arms around him and hold back.

Despite the large wave of shame that welled in him at this revelation, and the confusion of its source, he found himself feeling resentment of Zazin for the first time in his life.

He also decided that he needed some help. He should not feel jealous of the forming bond between the older Hunter and what should have been Prey.

* * *

_A/n: Sorry it took me so long, everyone. The next update will be much sooner, I promise. I don't know if anyone saw, but just to let you know, I've created a Blog that will have story updates on it. I will post status updates every week, along with a date that I will be expecting to update. I will also be posting there if something gets delayed/advanced, and how many days it will be delayed/advanced. _

_**That site can be found on my profile page.**_

_Is it getting interesting enough for y'all? I hope so. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

Cal stood a few feet away, his blue eyes bright. He was just as handsome, if not more so, then she remembered.

Nix took a step toward him, her hand reaching out. She shouldn't feel cold in this place. She shouldn't feel pain like the unfaltering blaze of fire in her shoulder that seemed to be only getting worse. Her body shouldn't be shaking from weakness. The drops of sweat that trickled from her face and down the soiled _Semper Fi _shirt shouldn't be there.

No, in this place of beautiful brightness, where her perfect husband stood smiling, it should be painless. Pure, happy, and as beautiful as she hoped it would be. But it wasn't. She felt all of it. She felt her knees buckle as she stepped forward; felt the cold, hard floor on her knees. Felt the sweat prickle on her skin and sting her eyes.

Instead of loving words and hellos, all that left her trembling lips were pleas for help. Pleas to make the pain stop, and tears that had so long needed to come forth.

All Cal did was stand there, his face falling when she couldn't come nearer to the light where he stood. His fingers twitched against his leg as if he yearned to reach for her as well, but he did not.

Nix sank to the floor, desperate to reach him. She just knew that the moment she touched her husband, the light would touch her and everything would be better. Peace would finally fill her. She would be able to hold her son again, smell his sweet hair and whisper to him that she loved him. They would never be separated again

If she could just go a little farther…

* * *

Li'ct-ha walked silently down the corridor that led to the quarantine chambers. He stopped in front of Nix's room and took a deep breath. The soft tinkle of the surgical instruments he stole were too loud in his ears. Zazin was in another meeting with the Elders, and couldn't help him. He would have to treat the wound himself.

He opened the door and stepped in. The human female was curled into a ball on the floor, shaking even more badly then earlier that morning. The furs were pulled to her eyes, which were clenched so tightly closed that it looked almost painful. She did not take notice of the door opening. She was mumbling something under her breath, something that sounded like 'K'al'.

He trilled softly at her to get her attention. She did not move.

Li'ct-ha knelt down, rearranging her onto her back. The woman still didn't give any sign of consciousness, and her eyes remained tightly closed as if concentrating on something. The darkness in the room did not help anything. Her body was too hot, with a sheen of sweat upon it.

The young predator allowed himself a look at her as he had in the forest. The shirt had crawled up a little, revealing a flat stomach and a navel much like the Yautja had, though hers was more defined like the rest of her kind. With the lightest of touches, he allowed the pads of his fingers run over her abdomen. He could feel her heart beat through the thin membrane of human skin. It stumbled erratically, the beat too furious and hard, as if it was trying to work far harder then it should have to. He placed his mask over his face and switched the sights so that he could see her body internally.

"Cal…Please…" she whispered through clenched teeth, her hand flexing. Li'ct-ha moved the shirt out of the way of the wound and pressed his fingers to it. It blazed under his fingertips. The center was hard as a rock and she hissed at the pressure applied to it, her body jerking under the touch. The infection was a deep, opaque red-yellow color in his sights.

Li'ct-ha moved his hand and produced a syringe from the small knapsack at his side. It was the smallest one he had been able to find, used on sucklings when they contracted any sort of illness from the hunters' escapades on the numerous planets.

Finding the large vein he saw in the Nix's arm, he pressed the small needle into the flesh and released the fluid. Nix grew still, her body no longer shaking violently. She released a quiet breath and a small smile touched the corner of her lips.

Li'ct-ha felt for her heartbeat again, watching the muscle pulse. It had calmed considerably, but far too much for his liking. Still erratic, it was now weakly pumping as if it would give out any moment. He thought that perhaps he had given her too much.

Deciding that the quicker the wound was treated the better, he grabbed the small blade and pressed it into the crudely closed hole. Yellow-green, rancid-smelling liquid poured out thickly, dropping soundlessly onto the floor.

The Young Blood's eyes narrowed at the smell. He took a small bottle from the pouch and opened it, pouring the oil-like red contents into the cut. The effects were instantaneous. The infection hissed and sputtered, steam rising from it. When it cleared, the injury was as it had been before the first treatment, with the exception of the dead flesh that had begun to decay around the abscess.

He carefully cut the dead flesh out and poured more of the oily liquid into it.

There, nestled and nearly hidden within a layer of muscle, was a large sliver of bone that Zazin had missed in his haste to cauterize it. Li'ct-ha nearly missed it, himself. With a nervous trill, he picked it out and searched for anything else until he was positive the wound was completely clean.

He pressed a button on another device and it shifted into a bowl. He poured the rest of the bags contents created the cauterizing blue antiseptic gel. He knew how much pain it had caused the Ooman woman before, and he was glad that she was unconscious this time.

* * *

Just a little farther…Cal was so close! With a huff of overexertion, Nix collapsed onto the misty floor, trying to catch her breath and gain more strength. Why did he not talk to her? Why couldn't he tell her that she was so close and that she could do it?

Nix saw a flickering shadow in the bright light out of the corner of her head. She painstakingly turned her head to see it and recognized a familiar, short figure.

"Sam…" she cried weakly, trying to stretch her hand out again.

"Mommy!" the little boy called, his face breaking into a worried expression.

The little boy jumped forward, arms open, and with a relieved sob, Nix pulled the little boy into an embrace, burying her face in his dark hair.

The pain and weakness receded abruptly. She shifted into a sitting position, holding her sweet son on her lap, caressing his hair.

"I love you so much, mommy! I missed you!" Sam said, his small arms wrapped around her neck.

"I love you too honey. I'll never leave you again…"

* * *

Li'ct-ha set the bowl aside and examined his work. The hole was closed and all that remained was healing. He placed his hand on her stomach and looked at her heart.

It was unmoving.

Growling, he pressed his large head against her chest, ignoring the firm breasts that he had been imagining so often lately. Perhaps there was something wrong with his mask. He heard nothing.

Nix's heart was silent.

Li'ct-ha let out a surprised roar and scooped the woman up, rushing from the room. Even if he had to hold a wrist blade to Vonre to get her to start Nix's heart again, he would do it. Unfortunately, the obstinate female was in the council chambers. He knew that it could mean dishonor to barge in on the meeting, and the clan of the Blooded Spear was not known for their mercy or understanding.

His footfalls were like thunder in the corridors. The Young Blood did not stop when he reached the doors. Instead, with a solid kick, they shot open and he came to a stop in the center of the room. Zazin stared at him, mandibles twitching at the interruption until he saw the lifeless form in his arms.

"Her heart has stopped! We must do something! Anything! Where is Vonre?"

Ignoring the sudden onslaught of enraged bellowing, the Young Blood set the woman down on the floor carefully, feeling for Nix's pulse again. No luck.

"Space it with the trash. There is no reason to bring prey back to life when it is meant to die by our hands anyway." Zazin heard from one of the Elders. However, there were several angry murmers at the comment from a group of strange Yautja that the Young Blood had never seen before.

It was only after a moment of being in the room that Li'ct-ha noticed these, a separate clan with a different mark; a long vertical slash on the bottom, and another slightly diagonal slash above it.

Though they had never met with anyone from this particular clan, Zazin knew it very well. Nearly seven human years before, one of the Elder's sons went with two others to the icy continent on the bottom of earth for the Kiande Amedha Chiva. All three had been killed, the son being the final one, but not before the son had marked a human woman. The Elder had given her his combi-stick, and they had left the planet. He had heard something else about the clan, however. He just couldn't remember what it was.

"Let me through."

Through a clustering of these strange Yautja, a dark-skinned black-haired woman with the clan symbol on her cheek appeared, donned in the standard basic armor and thermal netting.

Blade had not noticed the Ooman woman at all; she had been hidden by the clan the entire time.

"Who are you?" Blade asked, planting his feet firmly in front of where Nix was lying.

"Alexa Woods. Call me Lex."

Angry muttering from the elders sounded as the dark-skinned woman approached Nix.

Setting her spear upon the floor, Lex knelt down beside her and felt for her pulse. When she felt nothing, she tilted Nix's head back and opened her mouth, leaning down to administer CPR.

The Yautja, even those that did not approve of the Humans, watched, intrigued, at the scene. Few had ever seen a human perform such an act to revive another, especially a stranger. From their own experiences, most humans had no care for their peers, and in a situation where lives were in danger, their own lives were more important then the lives of others.

Blade looked at Li'ct-ha. The young predator was breathing quickly, the eyes of his mask fixed on the two women. His body was tense, fists clenched.

The older Yautja lifted his hand and placed it on his shoulder. He had a feeling that the younger one, despite how much Blade liked the Ooman woman, would be more distraught then himself if Nix remained dead.

* * *

Nix got to her feet and grinned at Cal. Her husband lifted his hand and touched her face.

"Hello Beautiful." He whispered. His smile was sad.

"Shut up and kiss me, you." She leaned forward and kissed him, her chest aching at his touch. It felt so wonderful, even just his fingertips on her arms. They pulled away from each other when Sam told them to 'stop being gross'.

"I hate your hair." Cal said bluntly, his hand passing over the short red fuzz on Nix's head. Nix closed her eyes, smirking.

"I know you do. You always loved my hair. That's why I cut it," she said, looking up at him. "I missed the way you used to play with it every morning to wake me up. I couldn't…I couldn't stand it."

Cal kissed her forehead. As he pulled away, something behind Nix caught his eye and his eyebrows drew together.

Nix turned to look and saw the female Predator that had visited her room, her skin gleaming white luminescence in the light. A mark Nix never noticed before glowed gold on her face mask, a kind of curled, curving line with a single slash at the bottom and a smaller line at the end of that.

She was holding a golden spear this time and Nix could see the subtle glinting of gold in the intricate designs of her white armor.

The female walked to her, looked at Cal and Sam for a long while, then turned her golden-mirrored gaze on Nix.

Sam suddenly wrapped his arms tightly around his mother's leg.

"No! You can't take her! She belongs with us!" he yelled from below, his young face twisted in anger. Cal's grip on Nix's arm tightened too, albeit briefly, before he let go. Nix looked at him, hurt slowly crossing her face.

"Let your mother go, Sam. She's still needed in life." He said.

Sam continued to cling to her leg.

"NO! I need her! WE need her! It's not fair!" he cried. Nix was shaking her head.

"I don't want to leave." She told the huntress, her hands reaching down to hold Sam.

The tall female was silent. She looked at Cal. The man, a tortured look upon his face, started to pry his wife's fingers from their son.

"No!" Nix yelled, back away. Sam held fast to her. Finally, the Huntress growled low in her throat, a strangely offensive sound coming from something so alienly beautiful, and grabbed Nix by the forearm.

The pressure of Sam holding her leg disappeared along with the light, and Nix let out a grieved cry, air filling her lungs sharply and her body falling into a wave of pain that she had hoped never to feel again, the worst of it, centered in her head.

* * *

_There you go! Another chapter! Let me know if you like it!_

_Thanks for reading._

_To see Blade's Clan symbol, go here:_

_img230.imageshack.us/my.php?imagebloodedspearclansymboljq6.jpg_

_To see Paya's symbol, go here:_

_img231.imageshack.us/my.php?imagepayamarkbg5.jpg_


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